The grand dining hall of Dwargon was alive with warmth and luxury. Torches lined the stone walls, casting flickering shadows across the long banquet table. Fine cutlery sparkled under chandeliers of enchanted crystal, and the smell of grilled beast steak, rare spices, and aged wine filled the air. The soldiers stationed by the door had started to relax, their hands no longer hovering near their weapons. Laughter and the soft clinking of glasses had replaced the earlier tension… but a heavy aura still lingered like a storm waiting for the wind to shift.
King Gazel Dwargo leaned back in his grand chair, sipping slowly from a gold-trimmed goblet filled with crimson wine. His eyes occasionally glanced toward the two guests who had completely stolen the atmosphere of the room: Lady Milim Nava and Yujiro Hanma.
Milim was halfway through demolishing an entire roasted beast leg with juice dripping down her chin, her eyes sparkling like a child in a candy store. Her energy was so chaotic and cheerful, it nearly made the soldiers forget who she really was. Nearly.
Yujiro Hanma, on the other hand, was calm—disturbingly calm. He sat with one hand tucked in his pocket, leaning slightly to the side, a predatory smirk playing on his lips. His very presence warped the mood around him like a black hole warping space. No one dared look him in the eyes for long. The air around him felt too heavy, like being buried under a mountain.
After hours of food and drinks, the atmosphere finally settled into something almost… comfortable.
King Gazel cleared his throat and leaned forward, his voice strong but respectful. "Yujiro… I've been thinking," he began. "You possess strength beyond comprehension. I was wondering, if perhaps… you'd consider training a few of our elite soldiers? Even just the basics of your martial arts would be—"
Yujiro didn't even look at him. He just let out a soft "Tch." Then, finally, he said in a low tone, "No."
The answer hit harder than a hammer to the chest. The room went silent. Gazel's generals shifted uncomfortably in their seats. One of them, a proud dwarf warrior named Grakar, clenched his jaw, clearly annoyed.
Gazel held up a hand to stop any reaction from his side and kept his composure. "May I ask… why?"
Yujiro finally turned to him, his eyes like those of a beast sizing up prey. "I'm here to relax," he said coldly, "not to babysit."
It was a short reply, but it shut everyone up.
Still, Gazel was not a fool. He nodded, hiding the flicker of disappointment behind a diplomatic smile. "Of course. Your time is yours, Lord Hanma."
A short while passed. More drinks were poured. The fire crackled. But curiosity eventually got the better of Gazel. He leaned forward again, cautious but intrigued. "If I may ask one more thing…" His voice was lower now. "Is it true… that you defeated the Demon Lords? And the True Dragons? All without the use of magic?"
A few of the generals scoffed quietly—an absurd question, even by the insane standards of this new world. But Yujiro's smirk widened, and his eyes sharpened like blades. He didn't answer.
Instead, Milim put her goblet down with a loud clang.
"He did."
The words dropped like boulders into a silent pond. Every eye turned to her.
"Yes," she said with a grin, licking grease off her fingers. "He beat all of us. Me, Guy, Dragurl, even Luminous. He beat the True Dragons too—Veldora, Velgrynd, Velzard. And he did it all without a single magic spell."
You could hear a pin drop.
King Gazel's heart skipped a beat. One of his generals dropped a fork. Another nearly choked on his wine.
Milim leaned back, her legs swinging under the table like a happy kid. But then she stopped, her smile turning a little darker.
"But," she added with a gleam in her eyes, "don't let that make you think you're safe. Yujiro is one of a kind. No one else can do what he does. That doesn't mean I've gone soft. I could still level all of Dwargon in one shot if I wanted to."
Crack. One of the generals dropped his wine glass, and it shattered on the floor. No one said a word. Cold sweat trickled down their foreheads.
Gazel held up a shaky hand again, his expression calm but his fingers twitching slightly under the table. He took a slow breath, then chuckled dryly. "We would be honored, Lady Milim, if you… didn't."
Milim giggled and picked up another steak like nothing happened.
In another side of the world....
The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a single crystal lamp swaying gently above a round oak table. The air inside the hidden underground office was thick with tension, and the soft hum of magical barriers pulsed through the stone walls like a heartbeat.
This was no ordinary office. Hidden beneath a bustling Free Guild branch in Blumund, it served as the true heart of the Harlequin Moderate Alliance—an organization cloaked in secrecy, chaos, and masks. Its members wore smiles on their faces, but daggers in their shadows.
At the center of it all sat Yuuki Kagurazaka, the so-called "President" of the Free Guild. His chair was turned slightly, eyes half-lidded as he stared into the swirling depths of a cup of hot tea. But his mind was spinning. Fast.
To his left, slouched with one leg on the table and arms behind his head, was Laplace, the jester with the razor-sharp instincts. He was whistling quietly, though it sounded more like a nervous tick tonight. Something had him… off.
To the right, standing with arms crossed and a permanent scowl on her face, was Kagali—now a sharp and calculating strategist who rarely spoke without intent.
And in front of them, still catching their breath, were Footman and Tear—the Clown and the Sadist.
Tear had her usual twisted grin, but there was sweat clinging to her temple. Footman, the bloated brute of a man, was hunched over with his massive hands resting on his knees, panting slightly. They had just returned from spying on the gathering in the Jura Forest.
"Well?" Yuuki finally spoke, his voice low and composed but curious. "What happened?"
Tear leaned forward, placing a cracked piece of bark on the table—a fragment scorched and split by impact.
"You're not gonna believe this," she said with a giggle. "The ogres are fighting the orcs like lunatics. And I don't mean just brute force—these guys are using techniques. Real ones."
Footman snorted, straightening up and wiping his forehead. "Yeah. Spinning kicks, joint locks, palm strikes that shatter bones. One of them even did this move where he slammed the ground and it sent a shockwave through five orcs. Five."
Yuuki raised an eyebrow. "That's… not normal."
"Tell me about it," Tear said, tilting her head. "At first, I thought they were copying martial arts from the old kingdoms or something… but it looked familiar. I've seen moves like that before. Brutal. Fast. Animalistic."
Laplace finally sat up, fingers steepled. "You mean... Yujiro Hanma's style?"
Tear grinned. "Bingo."
The room fell quiet.
Kagali narrowed her eyes. "You're certain?"
Footman scratched his thick chin. "Not one hundred percent."
Yuuki tapped a finger against his teacup, thinking. "That… shouldn't be possible."
"Maybe he trained them?" Laplace offered, though even he didn't sound convinced.
Kagali shook her head. "Why would a monster like him bother training ogres in a forest? What does he gain?"
Tear let out a sharp laugh. "Maybe he was bored."
"Or maybe," Laplace said, leaning forward with a sly grin, "they just learned from one of the dojos, y'know? There are like a hundred of 'em around now, all claiming to teach Hanma-ryu martial arts."
Yuuki didn't laugh.
He turned in his chair slowly, eyes cold now, serious.
"Even if they did pick it up from a dojo, that doesn't explain the precision we're seeing. Most dojo knock-offs can barely copy a quarter of his techniques without breaking their own bones."
Tear's smirk faded slightly.
"He's right," she said, nodding. "These ogres were moving like they've been doing it for years. It wasn't just skill… it was instinct. Like they were born to fight that way."
Kagali folded her arms. "Then there's only one explanation. He was there. At some point. Maybe even just briefly. But it was enough."
Yuuki frowned, staring down at the swirling tea.
"...I still can't wrap my head around it."
Laplace raised a brow. "What? That the ogres are learning martial arts?"
Yuuki shook his head.
"That a human… with no magic power, no skills, no blessings… no divine protection… was able to defeat the Demon Lords. And the True Dragons. All of them."
No one spoke.
Laplace, normally quick with a joke, went silent.
Kagali's brows furrowed. Even her confidence was starting to crack.
Tear's grin twitched at the corner, but she said nothing.
Footman rubbed his shoulder like it ached just thinking about it.
Yuuki leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. "How is that even possible? It goes against everything this world operates on. Magicules. Skills. Titles. Blessings. Divine favor. And this guy just… punches his way through existence."
"Punches reality in the face," Laplace muttered. "That's terrifying."
Yuuki's hand trembled slightly. He noticed it and clenched his fist, forcing it to stop.
"We've been planning for years," he said quietly. "Working in shadows, manipulating the Demon Lords, crafting chaos. And one man—a freaking man—shows up and changes everything just by existing."
Kagali's voice was sharp. "Do we deal with him?"
Yuuki looked at her like she was insane.
"How?" he asked. "You want to deal with Yujiro Hanma? The man who slapped Velzard into a mountain and made Milim back off with a look? You want to pick that fight?"
Kagali scowled but didn't argue.
Tear whistled low. "So… what do we do?"
Yuuki took a long breath.
"We watch."
He looked at all of them, eyes serious.
"We don't make a move. Not yet. Keep an eye on the Jura Forest. See what those ogres are really capable of. If they've learned even a fraction of Yujiro's power… they might become more dangerous than we thought."
Laplace nodded. "And if Yujiro really is connected to them?"
Yuuki smiled, but it wasn't comforting.
"Then we pray he stays bored."
The crystal lamp above flickered slightly, casting twisted shadows across the walls. Outside, the world continued turning. Armies moved. Alliances formed. But beneath it all, deep underground, one truth settled like a boulder in the gut of every person in that room:
Yujiro Hanma… was out there.
And he didn't need magic to bring the world to its knees.